Frogs
by StyxD78
Summary: There's not nearly as much to the Universe as most people would think. But some of it's pretty funny. Most of the good bits are about frogs.


Courtroom Drama

Light-years away from any insignificant blue-green planets, there exists the planet of Argubathon. Unremarkable for any important reasons, it is only known throughout the Galaxy for its stringent, even draconian legal system.

Even this would still be unimportant to our tale, except for the slightly more important Krikkit Wars. Billions of years ago, they had ravaged the cosmos, taking approximately two grillion lives over the course of nearly two thousand years. As any non-primitive species in the Galaxy could tell you, they had changed the course of history irreversibly.

This is not their story.

It is, however, the story of the Argubathonian legal system; more specifically, a man named Prak who found himself on the wrong side of it.

== Interrupt Narrative

Totally unrelated to the main point of this fable, at an unknown point in (outside of?) time, a young girl in a black dress sat on the back end of a hideously yellow battleship, now flying through space at approximately 99.99% the speed of light. This is not something the ship was built to do, but, given the ridiculous nature of some previous events in the session, physics seemed to have turned a blind eye.

The girl's canine ears drooped as she gazed into the depths of an object she held- not in her hands, but in a mystical green glow in the air in front of her. This object had cost her the lives not only of one of her best friends- but also her own. Though they had both turned out fine in the end, she had not been prepared for such shocks.

Suddenly, she grabbed the object in her hand and flung it off into the unlit depths of the space the ship through. The frog inside that ball was no longer her concern.

A man god sat in his stylish apartment, working at an old-fashioned typewriter. Suddenly, his enhanced author-hearing heard a soft noise as something dropped on his carpet between two entrances to the fenestrated plane. He found the item in question only with the use of his enhanced author-vision, and a pair of tweezers. He now scrutinized the object closely. Yup. It was him. The frog inside the minuscule eight-ball glowed softly as it seemed to croak.

_Hmm. It wouldn't do to let plot devices start cluttering up the room- any more than they already had, that was._ He set the ball down on a shelf ("Sorry for the inconvenience, little guy") and returned to his typewriter to continue breaking hearts.

This eight ball, despite containing the potential for a new universe, would have sat undisturbed to the end of time except for one fact: time shenanigans.

At some point in the deeply remote future (which was, for all intents and purposes, also the deeply remote past), the contents of the eight ball were disturbed by a totally unexpected hole in the universe. The atoms of the frog, seriously traumatized while drifting through the empty sterility of the space in the ball, began to cling together in the most extraordinarily unlikely patterns. These patterns quickly learnt to copy themselves (this was part of what was so extraordinary of the patterns) and went on to cause massive trouble for a lot of people, whom they eventually created- namely Arthur Dent.

This is also not his story.

The Genesis Frog, far from being abandoned to nothingness, began to fulfill its celestial duty.

== Resume Narrative

Prak sat silently in the courtroom, arms crossed across his chest.

"Are you quite sure?"

He did not even dignify the question with a nod of his head.

"Then you leave the court no choice."

Within ten minutes, the courtroom medical personnel had prepared the required materials. The head surgeon, having retrieved a powerful truth serum, prepared to inject it. Prak, understanding the futility of his situation hardly resisted as an area on his arm was sterilized in preparation for the needle.

All attention focused on the stubborn witness, no one noticed as sound akin to a thousand people saying "Whop".

"No hard feelings, mate." The surgeon said conversationally. "Just a job."

Prak stiffened, then gave the ghost of a smile.

"Alright then. We'll get you talking right awa-"

The surgeon was interrupted by a white robot brushing past him and seizing the plastic Argubathon Scepter of Justice, before returning to its ship, which had parked itself neatly within the Chamber of Justice.

The ship disappeared with a "foop".

The courtroom, after a full minute of silence, broke into hysteria. The Krikkit robots had returned; the end was nigh. The Judge would have none of it. He slammed his gavel (fortunately not plastic) into his desk once, restoring order immediately. No one wanted to be arrested for disorderly conduct in the Argabuthon legal system.

The case," he said without emotion, "will continue. Has the witness been prepared to testify?"

The surgeon glanced down at Prak. In the confusion of the moment, he seemed to have inserted the needle. He looked up at the magistrate, and nodded.

"Then the prosecution calls Mr. Prak to the stand."

Prak rose slowly. He had a faraway look in his eyes, seeming to be staring at something extremely interesting, and not within the wall of the room. Eventually, he turned, and shambled over to the stand.

"Mr. Prak," the judge continued, "do you swear to the Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing but the Truth?"

Prak froze where he stood. After an unbearably long pause, he smiled. In fact, he seemed to grin.

"Yes. Yes, I think I will."

* * *

Five minutes later, the doors to the courtroom swung open, and a cluster of journalists walked briskly towards the exit of the building. A guard stopped one of them. "Is the case over?" he asked.

The man he had asked paused for a moment, before nervously stammering out, "No…but… a most important event… has just occurred elsewhere. I really must go cover it, you understand."

The guard looked at him skeptically, suddenly hearing what seemed to be someone screaming hysterically with laughter within the Chamber. He reopened the door, and poked his head inside.

"…and his name is Bilious Slick!"

Oh. This did not bode well.

AN:

Infinite thanks to VGamer21 for editing advice on my first published fic.

Love it? Hate it? Want to see it shot through the lungs and left for dead?  
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